


and we'll be carrying each other (until our dying day)

by lookforanewangle



Series: behind your darkest doubts | whumptober 2020 [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce and Dick shut him tf down, Damian blames himself, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Damian Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Whump, Whumptober 2019, Whumptober 2020, and I will die on this hill, background DickBabs, but way late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookforanewangle/pseuds/lookforanewangle
Summary: Dick comes back to visit after his time with Spyral, and spends patrol with Damian.Things don't quite go as planned.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Series: behind your darkest doubts | whumptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951099
Comments: 35
Kudos: 316





	1. so glad you could make it (to a farewell)

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to lyss' batfam fics, where the canon is made up and the timelines don't matter! we only pull bits and pieces from new52/rebirth here and stick with pre52 personalities and relationships because those are, for the most part, much better in my humble opinion ~~, and that's when DC gave a damn about their characters.~~ (I will admit there's some good shit in post flashpoint but like. pre-flashpoint, y'all.)
> 
> anywho, long time no see!! this is the first fic I've posted with dick and damian on this account, so I hope I did them and the rest of the batfam justice, haha. this was originally meant to be posted for whumptober 2019 but uhhh I got busy with school and work and zines. huge thank you to [ Matina ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight) and [ Aurum ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan) for betaing this for me!
> 
> fic title is from brother by kodaline, chapter one title is from enjoy the show by lydia

It was supposed to be a normal patrol.

Richard had finally returned from his stint with the Spyral organization that kept him from them for so long. Damian hadn't strayed far from his side since his return, afraid that he would up and vanish when he wasn't looking.

Two weeks after his return, Richard surprised him with an entire day planned out; a full afternoon at the arcade, dinner at Damian’s favorite restaurant with the hummus that no other local location could ever match, and Damian soaked up every second of attention. It had been much too long since they’d spent time together.

He'd missed this.

He said as much when they returned home, and Dick smiled that big, obnoxious grin of his, wrapping him up in his arms.

"What do you say we finish this all up with a patrol?" he suggested.

Damian eyed him skeptically. "Just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us," Richard nodded. “And if you’re up for it...ice cream after?”

Damian returned a rare grin of his own. "What are we waiting for?"

They flitted across rooftops, Richard throwing quips around, Damian scoffing at the absurdity but loving every minute.

They had received no intel on anything strange happening, no big busts or new gangs in town. The rogues were all locked up in Arkham or staying low for the time being. All of the Bats were keeping an ear out, of course, but with no active threats patrol was quiet. It was, by all accounts, the perfect night to reconnect and catch up on all the things the two of them had missed during their time apart and plenty of time to fall back into their old routine.

Damian was excited for at least a few more nights of this before Richard inevitably left again, but at least he was alive and well and would only be a phone call away.

Damian doesn't know how everything went so wrong.

**~***~**

Two hours in, Oracle sends them after a smuggling ring down by the docks.

 _"They know what they're doing,"_ she comments, keys clacking in the background. _"All I know is they're moving weapons. I haven't been able to find exactly what they are or how many, much less the firepower, so be careful."_

"Nothing we haven't handled before," Richard responds. "Thanks for the update, O."

_"My pleasure. Just get back in one piece, Hunk Wonder. You promised me Viaggio's, and I intend to hold you to it."_

"Of course, m'lady," he responds with a cheeky grin, shooting his grapple. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You two are disgusting," Damian comments as he follows. Richard just laughs.

**~***~**

When they reach the docks, there is a much larger gathering than they had anticipated.

"Hey O," Richard whispers into the comm. "Send some backup when you've got a minute, yeah?"

_"Preference?"_

"Whoever's available. I think we're all peckish for some action tonight."

_"Sure thing."_

"Surely we can handle them ourselves," Damian muses, taking in the sight below. "But… I can see the advantages of having another. As long as it isn't Drake."

Richard snorts, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "We'll get you two to get along at some point, if it's the last thing I do."

"I would love to see you try," Damian scoffs, swatting his hand away. Richard suddenly stiffens next to him and Damian swings his gaze back to the sight below. A boat has pulled into the docks, and the men had begun to load the crates—

But those aren't weapons.

"O," Richard says softly. "What's the ETA on that backup?"

_"Two minutes."_

Richard's face set in determination. "We don't have time to wait. They have kids involved, the guns are just an extra to cover."

_"Shit. I'll tell them to book it."_

"Thanks, O."

_"Be careful."_

"Always."

Richard switches off his comm and turns back to Damian. "Ready?"

Damian nods once, and they jump from the building. His plows into one man feet-first and sends him crashing to the ground with a yell. Damian rolls into a crouch, flinging batarangs at the two men ahead of them, and he bolts towards the loading dock, taking down men with ease. He's exerting maybe a bit more force than necessary as he knocks them out, but it's not as if they don't deserve worse, he thinks.

He spots another man hurriedly ushering the children up a loading ramp and onto the boat, hissing at them to shut up as they whimper in fear. He's throwing frantic glances over his shoulder for the two of them, and it's when he's turned away that Damian finally pounces.

He leaps onto the man's back and stabs a batarang deep into his shoulder, and the man attempts to throw him off with a howl, backing up and slamming Damian against a shipping crate. Damian growls but holds on tight, wrapping his arms around the man's neck in a chokehold, and the man whirls, latching onto Damian's wrists and throws his hulking mass backwards to the floor—

Right on top of Damian.

Damian's head slams to the metal deck of the ship and his vision whites, all of his breath leaving him and his ribs crack under the pressure. He wheezes as the man lunges to his feet, and Damian rolls to his knees, head still swimming, and looks up right into the barrel of a gun.

Before the man can shoot or Damian can move, the man's kneecap explodes and he crashes to the ground with a scream. Damian turns, head pounding.

"Starting the party without me? I'm insulted!" Red Hood calls as he drops into the middle of the fray, guns firing into feet and knees and shoulders, dropping men left and right in a cacophony of screams. Damian turns his attention back to the children as Spoiler drops next to him. He helps her shepherd the kids to safety while his head clears.

Once the final child is safe, Damian runs back towards Nightwing and Hood, who are taking on the last fifteen men. He ducks beneath a wide swing at his head, gritting his teeth as he stumbles and diving to the side as bullets shatter the ground behind him.

_"Robin!"_

"Fine," he grits over the comms, catching his breath behind a crate. "I—"

He has his feet under him when one of the men rounds the corner, rifle swinging up and aiming at Damian's chest. The man is too tall and too stocky and too familiar with his short dark hair and tan skin and Damian freezes, breath catching in his chest. This man is not Heretic, couldn't ever be, but that split second of stillness is all it takes for Damian to be one step behind. Everything that happens next is almost too fast for his rattled head to keep track of.

There's movement out of the corner of Damian's eye, a blur of black and blue rushing towards him as he flings a batarang at the hand holding the gun at the same time that the man pulls the trigger. Damian's eyes widen and the gun cracks and he sucks in a panicked breath only to let it out in a scream.

_"No!"_

Nightwing crashes to the deck in front of him, and distantly, Damian can hear the comms explode with noise, can see Todd's fighting intensify, can see Spoiler drop onto the man who fired at Damian. The two of them cut down all of the men around them as Damian's focus shrinks to Nightwing's crumpled form, the gunshot echoing violently in Damian's ears.

He rushes to his brother's side and falls to his knees, ripping off his cape and pressing down hard against the gaping wound in Richard's chest. Richard cries out at the sudden pressure; there's already blood everywhere, splattered against Richard's face and rapidly pooling beneath them both, staining Damian's knees. His cape is turning red against Richard's chest faster than he can think.

"What have you done?!" Damian demands, eyes searching for any other injuries and to assess his brother's situation. His heart is pounding in his ears, hands trembling in panic. Richard coughs, blood spattering against his lips. He grimaces but turns it into a shaky, bloody smile.

"Just...doing my job," he chokes. He lifts a hand to rest against the side of Damian's face. "Protecting you is...first priority."

"I had it handled," Damian grits, voice shaking.

"I couldn't... _wouldn't_ take that risk," Richard whispers. "I didn't... didn't have your back last time, kiddo. I-I couldn't let it ha— _hng_ —happen again," he explains, gloved hand shakily palming Damian's cheek. His fingers tighten minutely on his face as he attempts and fails to hide a wince. "...never again," he murmurs.

"Richard—"

"N-names—"

 _"Shut up, you fool,"_ Damian snarls, pushing down harder against his brother's chest as his own tries to contain his rapidly mounting panic. Richard hisses, clenching his jaw against a whine, and Damian lets up slightly.

"You have _always_ had my back," he whispers, leaning into the hand on his face. "You have had it since the beginning, even when I— when I did not deserve it. You did not need to prove it to me by needlessly throwing yourself in harm's way for me. _Again._ "

"Maybe tha's jus'...jus' wha' big brothers d-do," he responds sluggishly, "throw ourselves in...harm's way."

"I never asked for that. I am more than capable of handling myself," he insists. Richard hums in response but otherwise doesn't respond, hand slipping from Damian's face and leaving behind a bloody streak. Damian's blood runs cold as he snatches his brother's wrist before it hits the pavement.

"Nightwing? ...Richard."

He doesn't respond. Damian shakes him once and he moans quietly, before once again falling silent.

"Richard?!"

He whips his head around to call for Hood when the Batmobile screeches to a halt at the edge of the dock. 

_"Father!"_

The door swings open and Batman is sprinting towards them, Hood and Spoiler tying off the last goon and quickly following. Batman crouches next to them, already reaching for his eldest as he asks urgently, "What happened?"

He gathers Richard up in his arms as Damian responds, reluctantly letting go of his cape and his brother's wrist, his voice laced with panic.

"I...there was a gunman. He was aiming at me. Nightwing… he got in the way."

"Hrn. Hood," Batman calls, "get the seat."

Surprisingly, Hood races ahead to the Batmobile, pushing the passenger seat flat to lay Nightwing down on. Hood clambers into the back and Damian follows, Batman placing Nightwing down after them. The air is rife with tension as Batman leaps over the hood and into his own seat, the engine revving to life.

 _"B,"_ Spoiler's voice calls through the comms as Hood straps Nightwing down to secure him for the drive, _"I already sent L to the Batcave, Red's picking her up now. A is prepping for surgery."_

Batman's gloves creak as his hands tighten on the wheel. He gives a short affirmative and presses down hard on the gas, rocketing towards the Manor.

**~***~**

They screech to a stop on the turnstile, Batman leaping from the car and rushing to Nightwing. He quickly but gently unbinds him, gathering him up into his arms and walking briskly to the cave's medbay. Damian scrambles to follow.

"Jason," Bruce barks, "get him upstairs."

"Nonono—" Damian pleads, eyes burning as he snatches desperately at the limp hand dangling from his father's arms. Todd grabs him around the middle, tugging him back against his chest and Damian whirls, snarling and swiping at the man keeping him from his brother.

"Let me _go—_ "

 _"Hey,"_ Todd snaps, snatching his wrists before they can do any damage. "Cut it out."

"Then unhand me—!"

_"No."_

With a quick twist, Todd twirls him around and plops to the ground, twisting and wrapping his arms and legs around him and effectively pinning him back against his chest. Damian squirms, breath coming in short bursts as he tries to wriggle out from the arms bracketing him in.

"Please," he gasps, chest burning with panic and phantom pains, " _please,_ I just got him back, I have to help him."

Todd shushes him, pressing his cheek against Damian's sweat-matted hair and murmuring in his ear.

"Kid, you've gotta calm down. There's nothing you can do right now; you've gotta let Alfred and Leslie work."

"I have to— I _promised—_ "

"You'd just be in the way," Todd interrupts, his hold tightening. Damian slumps, trembling as he tries to catch his breath, staring at the frantic movements of the medbay. After a moment, Todd hesitantly loosens his grip. "You know he wouldn't want you to see him like this," he continues quietly.

Damian turns his head and buries his face against Todd's bicep, sniffling. He couldn't argue Todd's logic; getting in the way of Pennyworth and Dr. Thompkins would only delay Richard's medical attention and recovery. Tears prickle at the backs of his eyes and he bares his teeth in a snarl. He would not show weakness in front of Todd, he forbid it. Maybe, he thought, pressing his face harder against Todd's jacket, if he held his face there long enough, Todd's post-patrol stench would suffocate him and he'd be forced to stay in the medical wing with Richard because of poisonous fumes.

Todd shifts to press his forehead to the back of Damian's head with a sigh, carefully readjusting his grip. Damian flinches at the contact, and Todd pulls back, brows furrowed.

"You hurt, kid?"

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, no, let's try that again. _Where_ are you hurt?"

"I'm _fine,_ " Damian insists between gritted teeth. "There are only bruises and small scrapes, nothing needing immediate medical attention."

Todd is quiet for a moment. "If you're lying to me, I'm gonna whoop your ass later."

"As if I'd give you the privilege," Damian snipes back. Todd's lips twitch in amusement.

"Look," he says slowly, "I know this sucks. So hit the showers and change, and let me put some salve on those bruises or Alfred's gonna have my friggin' hide, got it? Then we can hide up in the rafters or somthin' until they're done. We won't go far."

"But Father—"

"Yeah, well. Special occasion. Get moving."


	2. time means nothing (say that you'll stay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father’s fingers are impossibly gentle as he examines him for injury, cradling his chin in his hands as he shines a penlight into Damian’s eyes. Damian winces and pulls away from the light, head pounding, but Father holds him steady, a sturdy safe haven in a storm.  
> —  
> fills whumptober 2020 alternates **3: Comfort** and **15: Carry/Support**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeyyyy I'm back uh. /checks watch/ eight months late with our next and final chapter! little late for whumptober 2020, but I'm throwing it in here anyway to wrap up whumptober 20...19...... ~~time management isn't my best skill okay~~ I also graduated somewhere in there and covid was a thing, so. whatever. 2020 nano kicked me in the butt though (which is how I finally slammed this out) and I am writing _so much_ , so be prepared for new fics in the coming months!!
> 
> chapter title comes from "after hours" by we are scientists!

A shower and a quick medical patch up later finds Damian and Jason up in the rafters, just like Jason had promised. Damian’s head is throbbing, pulsing with every beat of his heart and every pound is like a hammer against his skull, but he does not say a word. Jason would take him upstairs like Father had wanted, and Damian refuses to leave the cave

He will not leave until he can ensure that Grayson will survive.

 _Of course he will survive_ , his mind snarls. _If he does not…_

 _He will_ , he insists. _He’ll make it_. Damian does not want to think of what would happen, or what he would do, if Richard did not.

The two of them are quiet as they perch in the shadows, not wanting to tip off Father or interfere with the situation below, regardless of how much Damian wants to be by Richard’s side. _You’ll just be in the way_ , Todd had insisted. Damian scowls at the thought. He knows how to maintain a necessary distance during medical treatments, and he would not ever impede on the operation below. He shifts, impatient. Father would be furious at both of them, especially Damian, but if he could just—

“Don’t even think about it, Baby Bat,” Todd says calmly, cleaning beneath his nails with the tip of his dagger. Damian’s eyebrows furrow further.

“I was not going to—”

“You were, and that’s not gonna fly,” he interrupts, catching Damian’s gaze and cocking an eyebrow.

 _Try me_.

“Stay out of their way, they’ll finish up faster. Faster they’re done, the sooner you can check on Goldie.”

Damian crosses his arms tightly against his chest and ducks his head away, his eyes burning in frustration. Jason is right of course, but Damian refuses to voice his concession.

They wait.

Nearly an hour later, the frantic energy of the med bay dies down. Damian straightens in his perch, stretching out the muscles that have gone stiff in his back and legs. His headache has not subsided, but he ignores it for now. He will ask Pennyworth for painkillers if it continues to persist _after_ he has checked on Richard.

Beside him, Jason tucks his blade back into its sheath and shifts into a crouch on the support beam, watching the scene below with bored interest. Pennyworth is beginning to sanitize medical equipment at the sink, and Dr. Thompkins scrubs out, packing up her medical bag and speaking softly to Father. As she strides towards the elevator, Father looks up at the both of them, and Damian freezes.

Father's eyes narrow at the two of them. He points sternly at them, and then to the ground in front of him. _Come here. Now._

Damian glowers at their discovery. Todd, on the other hand, has the audacity to wave back at him down below.

"Mornin', Boss," he calls down with a lazy grin.

"Hrn," Father replies, mouth pressed into a thin line. "Get down here, both of you."

“I don’t follow your orders anymore, B,” Todd shouts back. Despite his call, he pulls a wire from his belt, secures it, and swings down to drop heavily to the cave floor. Damian watches him go in confusion before following. Father stares them down sternly as they approach

Damian follows Todd, his steps hesitant and his eyes shifting anxiously between Father and the gurney across the bay. Richard’s chest is moving and Father is not very upset or in a panic, so why won’t Damian’s heart stop racing? His fingers tremble and he clenches them into fists, tucking them beneath his arms that he crosses again over his chest in defense. Mother would have never allowed such a show of discomfort, but Damian has learned differently here. Shows of emotion were encouraged by Richard, by Pennyworth and Brown, and occasionally by Father. Despite all of this, his cheeks still flush in discomfort at the motion. He unfolds himself as he comes to a stop feet away from his father. He hears the man take a deep, controlled breath, and Father's attention shifts back to his two sons in front of him. He eyes Jason first, skin around his eyes tight in frustration and something else that Damian can't put a name to.

This...this tentative peace between Father and Todd is so new, and so fresh, and still so strained as they find their footing, that all Damian can do is sit by, hold his breath, and watch.

"I thought I told you to take him upstairs," Father comments, voice low like an approaching storm, glare tightening his features. 

Todd glares right back.

"Come on, old man, you know as well as I do that he would have snuck right back down here," Todd argues. Damian doesn't counter his point, though his shoulders creep up towards his ears, self-conscious. Todd is correct in his assessment, but Damian will not admit it out loud. "He was just gonna keep comin' back until he could make sure dear ol' Dickie survived the night."

Father heaves a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Dropping his hand, he turns his glare to Damian. Damian meets his gaze head-on, fists clenched at his sides and his face set in a determined pout. He straightens, shoulders easing away from his ears and he tilts his chin up just enough in defiance for Father to catch.

"Richard was my partner," he says, standing his ground. "I will not leave him alone when he is injured."

Father’s face softens imperceptibly, and Damian waits, tense. Father's hulking frame crouches before him, the leather and kevlar of the suit creaking as his knees pop in protest, his pale eyes roving over his face and looking for...Damian doesn't know what.

“You know that Alfred and Leslie had everything handled,” Father comments offhandedly. It is meant to be reassuring, Damian knows, but he cannot help but feel like Father does not _understand_. Damian clenches his jaw.

“Yes,” he admits. “That still does not negate the fact that I would like to check on him myself.”

Father continues to just look at him, as if trying to read every intention beneath his words. His intentions are true, Damian knows this as sure as he knows anything, but Father...Father still struggles to trust him, sometimes. Damian’s chest twinges at the thought, just as his vision swims for a single second as his head pounds in reminder of his injury. He doesn’t think he gives any indication of the effect, but Father’s brows tighten in concern.

“You’re injured,” he says.

Jason scowls.

“I thought you said you weren’t hurt anywhere else, twerp.” 

Bruce shoots Todd a look. Damian glares at him. 

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Todd says, hands up in surrender. “I checked him over and he said he was fine.”

“I lied,” Damian says, his voice tight and head throbbing harder now at his admission, as if it had been waiting for the moment to finally show his weakness. Father pushes to his feet, joints protesting the movements

“Cot. Now.”

Damian tenses at the tone, but he follows to the bed next to Richard’s, brushing his fingers against Richard’s blankets as if touching the mattress alone would tell him of his current state.

Richard’s chest rises and falls, and Damian crawls into his own cot.

Father’s fingers are impossibly gentle as he examines him for injury, cradling his chin in his hands as he shines a penlight into Damian’s eyes. Damian winces and pulls away from the light, head pounding, but Father holds him steady, a sturdy safe haven in a storm. As the light pulls back, Damian squeezes his eyes tight, willing the pain away. He hears the light shut off with a sharp click, feels Father’s hand hesitate against his chin, shifting to cradle his face in his large, calloused palm. Damian opens his eyes in muted surprise, catching his father’s gaze warily. He just watches him again for a moment, some emotion behind the gaze soothing Damian against his notice. He takes a breath. Father strokes his thumb across Damian’s cheek in some sort of comfort, and Damian allows himself to lean into the motion. Just this once, of course. Tears suddenly well in his eyes, and he blinks them away rapidly.

“What’s wrong?” Father asks, urgency bleeding into his tone, thumb stilling on his face.

“I...” Damian chokes, gaze flitting away to the still form on the bed beyond. His heart fills with dread. “I— it was my fault that Grayson—”

Bruce crouches down in front of him, catching his other hand with his free one.

“This wasn’t your fault.” 

Damian bristles.

“But I—”

“Damian.”

His name is said so softly, so quietly, that Damian stills. There is no anger in his father’s tone, no disgust or disgrace on his features. Tears well in his eyes again and Bruce’s thumb resumes its motion across his cheek to wipe them away.

“I messed up,” he grits around the lump taking up residence in his throat, “and Grayson paid the price for my mistake. If that does not indicate that his injury is my fault—”

“Enough.”

Damian quiets again, ducking his head down and away as his tears continue to fall. He sniffles and Father moves, pushes to stand, and plucks Damian right off the cot and into his arms. Damian’s head swims at the motion and he ducks his face against his Father’s neck, the scents of sweat and leather and motor oil filling his nostrils. He’s stiff for only a moment before he sags against his father’s chest, tears falling and disappearing into the cape tucked under his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he cries quietly, and Father shushes him, rubbing his palm gently against his back. He clutches Damian tight, lets him cry himself out, and holds him as he drifts off to sleep in his exhaustion.

~***~

When Damian wakes, there is a hand carding through his hair. He sighs and leans into the motion, pressing his forehead against the warm body at his side, pulling the sheet closer under his chin. There’s a breathy huff of laughter above him and Damian stills. That sounds like—

His eyes fly open and he glances up at Richard. Richard smiles down at him wearily, fingers continuing to massage his scalp, soothing away the lingering hurt. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, voice scratchy from disuse.

Damian’s eyes water against his best intentions. “Richard,” he croaks, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleep shirt beneath his hands. 

Too many emotions bubble up at once, and Damian doesn’t know how to feel. Relief that Richard is all right, rage at himself for allowing Richard to be injured in the first place, exhaustion, pain, lingering fear at the thought of losing Richard yet again—

He settles on anger. _Wants_ to settle on anger.

He wants to be angry at this stupid imbecile, furious that he would throw himself in harms way for him when Damian isn’t— he’s not _worthy_ of it, _why_ —

But he’s too tired and his head still hurts and the relief of seeing Richard awake and well is too much, and before he knows it he’s crying again. How embarrassing. How _pathetic_. He ducks back down to hide his face against Richard’s side as he shudders, choking back sobs. Richard makes a noise of distress and tugs at him until Damian is upright so he can assess his situation.

“Damian? Dami, kiddo, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” he says urgently, gripping Damian’s upper arm tightly.

Damian sniffles miserably, and how much more pathetic can he be, sniveling in front of his brother, in front of his _Batman_ like this? He refuses to look Richard in the face as he speaks.

“—I’m sorry,” he stumbles, scrubbing furiously at his face. “I shouldn’t have— I should have been faster, I shouldn’t have froze—”

“Dames—”

“Freezing in the field is unacceptable,” he presses. “It results in injury and— I—” he stops, sucking in a shuddering breath. His gaze is locked on the sheets across Richard’s torso, bulging atop the bandages wrapped snugly around his abdomen. Damian reaches out and nearly touches the blankets there, but jerks back in a panic. He has already hurt Richard once tonight, how _dare_ he try to do it again—

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, turning his head away. 

“Damian,” Richard calls softly, and pauses as if he doesn’t know what to say. 

Damian braces for a rebuke, for blame, for a punishment, anything that would lay the fault solely on himself for Richard’s injury. A hand reaches up and Damian freezes in place, subconscious preparing for a strike. The hand stills, and if Damian were looking, he would have seen the look of sorrow and restrained fury cross Richard’s face. No comment comes to pass; Richard places his hand on his cheek and turns Damian’s head towards his, much like Father had done earlier. Damian does not meet his gaze. Richard sighs.

“Damian, sweetheart, please look at me.”

Damian purses his lips but obliges. Richard’s eyes are also soft like Father’s, and there is no blame there that he can find. He feels anger bubble in his stomach.

“How are you not furious with me?” he hisses through teeth clenched against his tears. “If I had not frozen, you would not have been _shot_ —”

“Damian, I’m not blaming you for this. Never.”

“You should,” he snarls, anger rearing its head as it rages hot in his belly. Anger at himself for his error, anger at Richard and Father for not seeing his failures, anger at Todd because— he doesn’t know why. All he knows in this moment is anger, and he clenches his fists around the blanket across his and Richard’s laps. “My error resulted in your injury. You nearly died because of me—”

“Damian—"

“I almost lost you again!” he shrieks. 

Bats startle far above them and wings flap furiously as they fly off into the cave, his shout echoing down the cave tunnels. The clacking of the computer keyboard across the way stops abruptly, and Damian suddenly feels very, very small. Sobs rise like magma in his throat, and he buries his face in his hands in embarrassment.

“I just got you back,” he rasps, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes to stop the flow and to relieve his still pounding head. “I just got you back and because of my error, I ruined our night, and you nearly _died_.”

“Oh, kiddo,” Richard breathes. 

He wraps his fingers around Damian’s wrist and pulls. Damian doesn’t have the energy or will to fight him, refuses to hurt him in any way again, and allows himself to be pulled down and tucked back against Richard’s side. Richard buries his face in Damian’s hair with soothing murmurs as Damian struggles to catch his breath through his tears. Eventually, he quiets, little hiccuping breaths the only indication of his breakdown. Finally, Richard speaks.

“Let me make this very clear,” he starts softly. Damian stills, throat clicking as he swallows past the lump in his throat. “My actions, jumping in front of that gun, none of that is your fault.”

“But I—”

“No,” Richard snaps. Damian bites his lip. “No,” he says softer, rubbing his hand soothingly against Damian’s back.

“I won’t let you blame yourself for this. My job is to protect you, and that is exactly what I did,” he says gently. “Even if I’m not your Batman anymore, protecting you will always be my duty as your big brother. Capiche?”

Damian breathes out slowly, giving a shallow nod in response against Richard’s ribs. “You will always be my Batman,” he concedes quietly. Richard squeezes him gently in response. “But it is also my duty to protect _you_.”

Richard reaches down to tilt his head up again. Damian looks this time. “You can watch my six,” Richard says, “and I appreciate it when you do.

“But you already saved my life once by putting yours on the line,” he whispers, grief etched across his face. Phantom pains echo through Damian’s rib cage in response. “I don’t want to have to bury you ever again, Dames.”

Damian’s throat constricts, and he purses his lips and swallows against a new flood of tears. His head hurts so much, and he just wants it all to _stop_.

“That is— that is why I froze,” he whispers, releasing his secret before it is locked away forever in his chest. “That man...h-he looked so much like— like Heretic, and I…” he trails off, voice failing him. Richard sucks in a breath, horror in his eyes.

“Oh, kiddo,” he breathes. Damian squeezes his eyes shut, and Richard pulls him close again.

“He’s long gone,” Richard reassures him, and Damian _knows_ this already, knows that Heretic is gone for good, but the fear still sits in his chest, like a piece of the blade that struck him down got stuck on the way out, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever shake it loose. “He can’t take you away from us ever again… and you’ll never have to protect me from him again. You’re safe, sweetheart,” he whispers, squeezing Damian’s nape. A single tear escapes down Damian’s cheek. Richard wipes it away and presses a kiss to his hair.

“You’re safe, and you’re right here with me. You’re not going to be taken away from us ever again.”

“Nor you from me,” Damian whispers, pushing his head tight against Richard’s chest. 

Richard squeezes back, and the two of them lie there, soaking in each other’s presence, relieved at the fact that they both are still alive and safe. They will have other nights to spend with each other, and that much is a promise. Father continues his reports across the cave, the bats flutter above, and everything is alright, for now.

With those assurances, the two of them drift back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! <3
> 
> as I said at the beginning, lots of fics (or at least two very long fics) are coming soon-ish, so keep an eye out! one may or may not be an old guard au, I can't say for sure ;)


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